Another Day in the Life of a Certified Music Practitioner

Tonight was full of blessings.

Energy flowed freely through the music and me and everything was in harmonious vibration. I may have to give some kudos to the organic, raw chocolate beans my wife left lying around this morning, and the hot chocolate, almond concoction I made in the blender, for the way I danced through my yoga practice and sang through the rest of this day. And if I don't sleep tonight I will also have to admit that such wonderful chocolate is a two-edged sword. But for now I am content to share the blessings of this day and this evening.

It has been a good afternoon already. The musical vibrations seem to be having their effect as they gradually pervade one room to the next and across the entire third floor of the north wing.. Two hours go by very quickly and I am able to share time and music with quite a few patients and family members. One of the nurses makes a referral and later shares with me how the music has really helped to ease the tension on the wing. She tells me that one of the supervisors said, "I wonder how much we would have to pay him to get him to stay for half an hour!

Everything is already going quite wonderfully until around 5:30 when I meet a patient who has some very interesting musical tastes. Most mornings I do yoga and then warm up on my bass. This morning I used a recording of a large chorus chanting the sacred word "OM" as the background for my warm-up. I thought of bringing my Raagini drone machine with me, which is an electronic version of an Indian classical instrument called a tanpura. It makes a continuous droning sound upon which one may improvise or play tunes. I forgot to bring it, which was a shame, because this patient, a wiry, older man with a big smile (very few teeth, but still) and joyous spirit would have loved it. He tells me that he loves to listen to Buddhist style music sung in big echoing halls, and classical music before bed at night. I really wish I had my Raagini, but I make do with my composition, "Breathing Song", which utilizes the bass's natural harmonics to create its own special kind of resonance. My patient really loves it and introduces me to his sister and her best friend of 50 years. Her friend asks me if I know "Shenandoah", and thankful for my good luck, I say I do. She begins to sing and I begin to play and now the nurses are really intrigued and wondering where all these sounds are coming from. And so a solo became a duo and this hospital room became a celebration, our patient was as happy as he could be, bringing my afternoon to a joyful conclusion.

After dinner I visit the "Nite Out" Open Studio hosted by Kay and Hollie, a special time on the fourth floor where patients, families and visitors can linger, creating artwork and listening to live music. I begin to play my bass outside the studio and soon there are quite a few listeners, patients out for a walk, smiling as they pass, family members and visitors gathering, sitting down and staying for a while as I play some of my favorite music. The bass is vibrating beautifully, just the right amount of rosin on my bow and I am enjoying every note, singing with my heart. One particular patient whom I have met and played for before is present. He is a European man, with fine musical sensibilities and a kind heart. Playing for him seems to bring out the best in me. Another family group sits down to my right. My friend is in front. A woman and her baby grandson nearby. We have become a circle of music and good will. I pause for a moment and there is light applause which I gratefully acknowledge. At this moment a middle aged woman walks close to me and she says,

"I want to tell you about my husband and to thank you for the visit you made to the SCU last night. I want you to know how much it meant to us. My husband was not doing well. It seemed to us that he was giving up and moving in a downward direction. Somehow your visit seemed to turn the tide. Afterwards he developed a more positive outlook and he seems to be on the mend, moving in a positive direction. I wanted you to know what a difference your music made and to thank you so much for visiting my husband. Thank you."

In this moment I feel so blessed and happy and heart is aching a little and I don't know how I could feel any better than this. I thank her for taking the time to tell me, how much it means to me and I want to place it in my heart and keep it with me all the time.

My European friend has been listening and notices how moved I am. He also wants me to know what our musical visits have meant to him. "You remember when you first played for me? You invited me in and I sat down there and you played and the tears came to my eyes. I was a very sick man. You helped me. Sometimes it is the little things that make the most difference. This is a special place. What you do is wonderful. You should know that. Thank you." Now my heart is so full I don't know if I can stand it. Most of the people are gone. I touch my bass, then I realize it is time to rest for a few moments.

I join Hollie, Kay and Jacquie in the studio. There is a new "customer" there, a family member curious about what is going on and what is available. Hollie reminds me about a referral I had forgotten about, a young man, a university music major who is a patient and might like a visit. I plug my wheel into the bottom of my bass and go.This young man is in bed. His parents are with him. I introduce myself and at first he seems a combination of groggy, "antsy" and indifferent to my offer. He tells me he is a singer, and I know which piece I will play. The whole time I am thinking about my vibrato, trying to appeal to the singer before me. After a couple of pieces he is warming a bit to the music and to me. The man in the next room is also listening and smiling. Then a nurse arrives with the news that it is time for a medicated breathing session. This will last at least five minutes. His mother says, "I guess playtime is over." But I remember a piece I once played with great success for a patient who needed motivation to do more breath work and I offered to play it. It is based on Indian classical music, a raga. We have an agreement, I begin to play and he begins to breathe. This music is very rhythmic and repetitive, almost hypnotic in a way. His eyes never leave my bow moving back and forth and we have a real connection. The breathing is no longer a solo chore but a collaboration between musicians. Even the sound of the airflow of the breathing tube adds to the effect. Playtime continues. The patient next door nods in approval. We are all of one mind. How cool is that?